The Helm of Darkness
by princessofthescoundrels
Summary: A few months after On Stranger Tides, the English Navy recruits Jack to find the mythical Helm in the Underworld. That is, before Barbossa does. And he won't be able to do it alone. [JS/A, WT/ES]
1. Chapter 1

**Hello readers of FanFiction! It has been several years since I have posted anything, but I found this story, mostly completed, on one of my flashdrives. The last two chapters I wrote this past week, but everything before that was made a few years ago. So, it is COMPLETED. I will be uploading the rest of the chapters once a week, probably Friday nights.**

 **I forgot all about this story, but I thoroughly enjoyed reading it and completing it. Since we are our own worst critics, I think that means you will enjoy it too!**

 **Takes place a few months after On Stranger Tides.**

 **Jack Sparrow/Angelica, Will Turner/Elizabeth Swann (mentioned)**

Captain Barbossa made his disgraceful entrance back into the illustrious English Navy on a small dingy in the middle of the night. He sputtered the seawater out of his mouth and bowed in front of the nearest British officer he could see, howling his apologies. There had been only murmurings of what happened at the Fountain of Youth, and particularly as to what happened to the members of Barbossa's crew on that particular mission. So after much persuading, though to the English egos it may have seemed like pleading, the great nation accepted the pirate back with suspicious arms. Though it was always assumed that had you been a proper captain, you would have gone down with your ship, Barbossa was given his rank back with the promise of just one more chance.

"But what happened to the _Queen Anne's Revenge_ , Black Beard's disastrous ship? What of the Spanish? What of the Fountain of Youth? What of _Jack Sparrow?"_ They all whispered, the rumors between the lower class growing every day.

Though England didn't have control over the Fountain of Youth, neither did the Spanish, and that was all that mattered. Barbossa's intricately woven tales made it seem that the crew fought the Spanish until they breathed their last breath, but he only just escaped. The crew, the Spanish, and unfortunately the tools that could help him find the Fountain were lost in the ocean forever. Spain had, of course, released an official statement that they had destroyed the Fountain but not before having a fight with Barbossa's crew, but what was the word of Catholics against the word of Barbossa? If the English failed to accept Barbossa back into their ranks, which would mean Spain had the correct side of the story. And that simply couldn't be done. So Barbossa's missing crew was conveniently buried.

Barbossa may have had the Navy fooled with his adventure filled story of how he escaped in only a small boat, but the lower levels of the English Empire were unmoved when the news of the sudden disappearance of the pirate broke out like an epidemic. It was the news that came out afterwards that truly surprised everyone. A document from the tightly guarded hands of the government was missing.

It was assumed as it should have been, that the two highly suspicious occurrences were linked. However, no matter how hard they tried, it seemed that the pirate had managed to vanish off the face of the Earth. And we all know that desperate times call for desperate measures…

"We'll get him soon enough," the young captain answered confidently to his silver haired elder. His chin was high and his voice was strong, though the trembling in the tips of his fingers gave away his unease.

The silver haired man looked extremely old, but strong. It might have been the maleficent glimmer in his eye, or the way he slicked his hair back so that the world could see the white scars that ran across his face like the waves in the ocean. One thing was certain, this was a man you didn't want to double cross. This fact became even more evident when he smiled, for this made the scars stand out. "That's what you told me before we sent the _Vigil!_ ," he hissed. The lights in the cabin flickered menacingly at his words and the hidden threat behind them. "The _Vigil_ was supposed to be _invincible,_ was it not, captain?" He used the title like a swear word, the squeak of his boots on the floor was the only sound in the otherwise quiet room as he paced. His steps were carefully planned and even, and this made the younger man more nervous.

"Sir, against the _Queen Anne's Revenge_ that boat was a mere plaything…" he stuttered over his words, his palms running up and down the arms of the chair. He had the overwhelming desire to run his fingers through his blonde hair in both nerves and frustration.

The elder man stopped his perfect pacing abruptly and turned on his heel. "And where is this plaything," he began with malice. "Now?"

The captain gulped as he felt himself breaking out in a sweat. "A-at the bottom of the sea, er, sir."

A calm smile made its way across his face and he reached into his coat pocket, pulling out a small and elaborately adorned dagger. "Do you know what the universal rule of the sea is, captain?" he asked so quietly that the younger man had to strain to hear him.

"No-o, sir."

The brows of the general furrowed. "Strange, you would think that the top of his class would know it… doesn't everybody? Let me see if I can jog your memory…" he ran a finger slowly up the side of the blade and the other man had to fight to keep his attention from the ruby eye in the center of the knife. "Do you know how I got this?"

"Excuse me? Er, sir?" The sudden change of subject was startling to the younger man, whose eyes still wandered to the ruby.

"I was in a bar one night, as men often are," he began slowly, accentuating every word. "And I got to talking with a –gentleman-," he smiled humorlessly. "It turns out that you both had a lot in common. He was the captain of a ship, respectable, young, but as it turns out he committed the worst offense of all- he abandoned ship." There were beads of sweat coming off the captain now and his knuckles were beginning to turn white from where he was grabbing the arm rests. "Did you abandon ship, captain?" he asked, twirling the knife between his fingers.

"Well I-" the captain began. In a flash the elder struck the hand with the knife across his face and the captain let out a yell of pain.

"I didn't ask for excuses! Did you, or did you not go down with your ship?"

"No- no I didn't!" he cried in answer, one hand covering his face, the other fumbling desperately on his jacket to stop the flow.

"No you didn't what?"

"I didn't go- go down with the- the ship- sir!" he sobbed, now a crimson handkerchief covering half his face.

"Are you a grown man or not?" he scoffed, wiping his blade on his own handkerchief. "Anyway, I shot down the man straight in the chest and took the only thing of value on him- this blade. I only take it out when someone has done something _so disgraceful_ that they _deserve_ to be punished. And you, Captain Porter, deserved to be punished."

"Yes sir," he gasped in response.

"But I'll let you live," he flourished his arms in a mock forgiving manner. "But don't make me regret my decision. If you don't capture Captain Barbossa and the property he stole back, I will change my mind." He stared with disgust at the writhing Captain Porter. "But make sure you clean this place before you do."

"And stay out!" the bartender called as he shut the door in the pirates face.

"Hey- you can't do this to me! I'm Captain Jack Sparrow, the best pirate in the world, I can run circles around- aw hey who needs you and your- you lousy dung beetle pie head…" his words slurred near the end of his speech, dusted himself off, and took a swing of the bottle grasped tightly in his dirty hand. He stumbled down the dark alleyway. "Oopie, that's a wall," he mumbled to himself.

Before he knew it the world had spun around a few times and turned black. This was a pretty regular occurrence for the pirate, but the next day's surprise was far from normal.

The first thing he noticed the next morning was that in the night he spilt his rum all over himself and had none left.

The second was that he had slept on a brick wall the night before and his back hurt like hell.

The third was that he had- not one- but close to eighteen muskets pointed at him. "Oh, good morning then. I'd reach for my pistol but I can't even feel me toes. Be a nice chap and let me up." He held up a hand to an extremely confused uniformed officer. "Go on then, take me to your leader, I haven't got all day. Plenty of bars left to visit you know."

"There's no need Captain Sparrow, I'm right here. We expected more of a fight from you due to your reputation. Hard to find, easy to capture." A well dressed man made his appearance behind a few of his officers, the long scar running his face new and fresh.

"Well it would be real friendly- like of you to not spread it around to the ladies that I'm too easy, eh? Gotta make 'em think yer fightin' them a little, you know." He winked at the officer to his left. He then held out both of his hands. "Well, go on and clap me in irons, I'm already got a pretty good idea of how I'm going to escape. Hey, if yer gonna be confiscatin' anything, could you be a dear an' leave my leather bracelet on me left hand alone eh?"

"I'm sure that could be arranged," Porter replied back stiffly. He nodded at the officer closest to Jack and he slipped the cuffs on his hands.

"So it's back to the prison then? I've been missin' that dog with the keys. Now that I think about it, could' ya keep the biscuit in me right pocket alone also?"

"No, I'm afraid you're wrong, Captain. You're about to have an audience with His Excellency."

"Oh you mean the red fat guy in the giant fake wig? Talks real stiff like? I've already met 'im."

"You might want to talk of your king with a bit more respect or you'll find yourself in a sticky situation." Porter began to walk and the officers made a protective ring around the pirate.

The holding carriage was only on the next road. They opened the iron bars and Jack stepped inside without a struggle. "If the sticky situation involves one of his Most Excellentnessness' cream puffs, then count me in."

"Behave yourself Sparrow." And the doors clamped shut.

 **If you liked this story, please review!**


	2. Chapter 2

"And that's where I swung on the chandelier. See? The scuff marks are still there from me boots. I guess you couldn't find no'ne tall 'nough to get to it, eh?" Jack was looking, unimpressed, around the palace room with its walls painted in gold. Unlike before, there was no elaborate feast stretched out tantalizingly in front of him, which was slightly disappointing as he hadn't eaten all day.

"God can you shut this man up?" Porter rolled his eyes. Jack's consistent chattering was wearing the captain out, and his patience was running low. "Where is His Highness?" he asked highly to one of the King's advisors.

The white wigged old man looked arrogantly back to the young Captain, clearly believing he was of higher importance. "His Majesty does not have time to be chasing pirates all day, despite whatever you were told by your superiors."

Captain Porter narrowed his eyes at the condescending older man. "You can remind His Excellency that it was he that sent me to find this… sewer scum, and the longer we wait the closer the traitor Barbossa gets."

"Oh, so what did ol' Barby do now, and why might you wantin' to be findin' 'im?" He frowned. "And you might wanta think about treatin' me a little nicer now, if you want me help."

Porter smiled slowly. "Your help is mandatory, the only choice you have is if you'll cooperate or not. And you'll find out what your little friend did soon enough, now hold your tongue."

"I would under normal circumstances mate, that is hold my tongue, but you've gone and clapped me in irons. Can't move me hands a bit, see?" he demonstrated by wiggling his hands a bit while sticking out his tongue. The clangs of the cuffs on his wrists as he moved them enhanced the migraine that Porter had and he groaned. Just as he was about to yell at Sparrow, the ornate doors opened and his Royal Redfaceness walked, more like wobbled, in. Jack began to clap but two of the King's officers immediately went to still his jingling hands.

"We will _not_ be making that mistake again," the Kind smirked. "In fact, I'd have you hanged this very second if we didn't need you so much, you've embarrassed me greatly."

There was a brief pause before Jack spoke, "I suppose it would be futile to even begin to try and be suggestin' that you might possibly have the smallest tinsey ever desire to be taken these cuffs off me dear old body? Frankly, they don't match my outfit." Jack was riding on the hope that the King was too confused to even begin to understand what he just said, but just as the King opened his mouth to respond, Porter cut in.

"If you can't find it in you to shut up then you'll find that your blood will match the carpet perfectly," he replied irritably and resisted the urge to press his fingertips to his temple.

The King frowned, about to tell the captain that there will be no slaying on his magnificent Indian carpet before it dawned on him that it was an empty threat. "Language, Captain," he scolded instead.

"But I haven't said anything yet," Jack protested innocently.

"You will address your King as-" an advisor began hotly.

"Go polish your wig," the King told off his helper grumpily, already annoyed that this confrontation was taking so long. He put his hands together and leaned forward. "Pirate, we require your assistance recovering a piece of stolen property from a certain Captain Barbossa. We have been told you're friends with this scallywag?"

Jack made a face. "I suppose it depends on several factors. One being the weather, another the day of the week…"

"We can help you, but only if you cooperate," Porter interrupted what he knew to be just another wisecrack.

"Dear Barbossa and I are perfectly square. What assurances can you make me to go after my dear friend… enemy… person?" he asked, trying to move his hands to no avail and instead made another funny face.

"We can get your ship out of the bottle," the King told him shortly, growing more and more tired by the minute.

Jack immediately sobered and attempted to feign indifference. "Well yer Highness I've not the faintest most of ideas what yer talking about."

"Blackbeard incased your precious _Pearl_ in a bottle, or have you forgotten?" Porter smirked. "We caught your friend trying to steal a goat, and luckily for him he wasn't sent to the gallows. We recognized both him and several ships in his possession." The humorless smile taunted Jack. "I thought the Great Jack Sparrow would have figured out something by now."

In an uncharacteristic display, Jack was silent for another moment. "It turned out to be more difficult than previously calculated."

"Ah," Porter taunted. "Luckily for you before Barbossa made his disgraceful departure, he provided us with the technology."

Jack rolled his eyes. "You powdered posh men must have guessed, at least, that Barby was Captain o'the _Queen Anne's Revenge_?"

"Follow us, Sparrow," Porter replied back nastily, his comment hitting a raw nerve. Jack suspected it would end up worse for him if he reminded his captors that his first name wasn't Jack, but Captain and should be addressed as such. But he minded his manners and allowed himself to be dragged from the room.

He was given this treatment all the way down to a nearby port. There was a machine unlike one Jack had ever seen before in front of them, one Jack briefly wondered for the moment if it came from the future. There was a small hole on one side, a series of buttons and levers, and a larger hold on the side facing the water. Jack was only too skeptical.

"Bring them over now," the King told a helper with a bored expression on his face. Evidently, he had seen the machine before and was rushing to get the ceremony over with.

Jack was getting rather worried at this point, and his anxiety only increased when he saw that one of the 'them' was his good friend Mr. Gibbs. The elder man was clutching a small bottle to his chest as if it were a bar of gold. He gave an apologetic look to Jack. Upset, the pirate turned his head to look at Gibbs' companion. The stuffy English gentleman had another bottle on a velvet pillow and was walking slowly so not to break it.

"As you can see, Sparrpw, these are only two of the bottles in the bag we found with Gibbs. This-" Porter gestured to the bottle the butler type-esque was balancing on the pillow, "is a very famous vessel that perished at the hands of the _Queen Anne's Revenge._ You will be sailing this with me to Barbossa."

Jack gave a thin lipped smile. "I'd much rather sail the _Pearl._ You said she'd be here?"

Porter closed his eyes at Sparrow's gall to speak out of turn. "And that is what Gibbs is holding. We can't let you have your ship now, what else would we have to bargain with? No, you'll be sailing the _Twilight Vengeance_ with me. Rest assured, though you are in command of this mission, I will not hesitate to give orders to shoot you, should you make any… unwise decisions."

"Got you there, mate," Jack spoke silently, his eyes glowing at his ship in the bottle Gibbs grasped.

"Hm… I'm afraid with his beloved scrap heap in his presence, we have lost Captain Sparrow's attention. Mr. Pots, please remove the bottle from Gibbs and return it to the King's safe."

"Begging your pardon, sir, but where might the King's safe be?" a squeamish looking fellow to the left of Gibbs asked.

"Good God man!" Porter cried and moved to the man's side. Jack gave Gibbs a pointed look and Gibbs listened to their whispers intently. "Now to business." Porter walked back as Mr. Pots took the ship from Gibbs' hands with only a little struggle.

He went to the pillow which held the _Twilight Vengeance_ and picked it up gently. Jack, for once, was struck completely silent with curiosity, his permanent hung-over mind whirring. Porter went over to the machine and uncorked the bottle, pressing the end quickly into the small hole on the side. After making sure it was secure, he pressed a series of buttons. Jack tried harder than he'd ever had before to remember the order, for it was hard to focus with the effects of drinking fogging his brain.

Soon enough, his brain wasn't the only thing that was foggy. Once Porter pulled the last lever, a thick fog came out of the other side of the machine, making it impossible to see in broad daylight. In a matter of seconds all the occupants of the dock couldn't see six inches in front of them. All Jack could see was the steadily increasing black shadow poking through the heavy fog.

It was a few minutes before the fog had fully cleared, and when it did, a giant boat took its place. It was one of the biggest boats Jack had ever seen in his entire, life and he'd seen quite a few. It was white and very well preserved. Except for the tattered sail in front and a few cracked boards, there was hardly any evidence of a fight.

"We're not be settin' sail now, are we?" Jack asked. He had his best poker face on just then, though he was secretly a tad anxious at the prospect of sailing such a large vessel.

"Hardly. It should take a day to get it ready."

Jack pretended to stretch. "All right chaps, it's been a long day, I'll just meet all of you tomorrow at oh- eight- hundred? And if you would unsnap these horrid cuffs if it's all the same to you as I'm on my way… sounds good. See you all later…"

"Cute, Sparrow. No, you and Mr. Gibbs will be sharing a cell until we are ready for you to come down and set sail."

"Ah." His face fell as he was led away with his friend.

"I'm so sorry Jack, I just stopped in for a drink… I didn't know I was being followed!" Gibbs apologized sincerely in a rushed voice as they were marched through the less glamorous parts of the castle.

"That has happened to me many a time, don't fret. We'll figure this out if it kills me, which it has a few times. Tell me my good man, did you get the directions to the _Pearl?"_

"Of course, Captain."

"Then you're not fired yet."

Gibbs sighed as they were led into a cell. "There's still plenty of time for that, Cap'n."


	3. Chapter 3

"The Captain is ready for you now," a stocky English soldier with a musket informed the two recently woken up pirates.

"You didn't have to poke us with the stick, mate. A good holler would've done it," Jack grouched, stretching. "You official types might want to have a talk to your superiors 'bout the quality of your beds. There's more fleas in here than on me head." He gestured to his 'bed' of rock and straw.

"You'll manage," the officer said with a military monotone. "I've been instructed to lead you to the port where we will be setting sail."

"Oh, so this piece of golden sunshine will be coming along with us! Isn't that just wonderful, Mr. Gibbs?" Jack stood up and walked to the iron door and held on to a bar while the officer unlocked the door.

"Fantastic, Captain," Gibbs replied, still trying to be on Jack's good side due to his big mistake the other day.

The officer made no more comments, though Jack tried to get a rise out of him. Jack was back in his old manner, still as crazy as before, just not quite as hung over. He figured, as long as he would be sailing alongside prissy governmental types, he might as well mock the hell outta them.

It didn't take very long to get back to the port, and this time there were many more people milling around the giant boat than before. The broken boards from the other day had been fixed, along with the cut ropes and the tarnished sail. Burly workers were rolling barrels and barrels of supplies up a board and into the storage compartment. So many people working on one ship wasn't quite Jack's style. He preferred the perfect number of sailors, a mix of just enough to pilot the ship, and too few to have a mutiny against him. He'd learned from last time that too many powerful sailors just led to trouble.

"Ah, thank you soldier for bringing the baggage. Normally I would say dump them below decks, but this time they will have the spot of honor near the wheel." Captain Porter smiled humorlessly, his migraine now fully gone. He suspected it would come back soon though, just by the look that Sparrow was giving him.

"Thank you for your kind handlement," Jack nodded to the soldier importantly and stepped closer to the ship. "The more time I'm on this boat, the happier I will be."

"Oh, I wouldn't be too sure of that," Porter replied curtly. He nodded to two more nearby soldiers. "Please escort these… nuisances on board. And keep the cuffs on."

"How much help from the Holy English Navy will we be getting?" Jack asked as the men began to tug him along.

Porter narrowed his eyes. "Not much, I can tell you that. This ship, and some reinforcements if we don't return in time."

Jack shook his head incredulously. "Does your Majesty honestly think you have much of a chance against all the powers of Barbossa?"

"Yes," Porter replied shortly.

"Well, my faith does not run as strong. Yer going to need some help."

"Help from more pirates? I can assure you Captain Sparrow, you are all the pirate we need."

Jack needed to convince this man that Barbossa was dangerous. He had friends in very low places, and from places all around the world at that. If Porter assumed that this ship was all they needed, he was extremely incorrect. "You don't want more illustrious men dying than you have to, eh? Let me friends do it fer you."

Porter was silent for a moment. Then he turned angrily to his crew. "Ready the ship! I will be back shortly!" Turning to Jack, he growled. "Make this quick, Sparrow. If this wastes any more time than it has to, I swear I'll take the losses out of you in blood."

"Trust me, mate. It'll be fabulous. But it'll be mighty hard to show you around with cuffed hands," Jack pointed out and jingled his hands.

"Yes, it will. But you'll manage."

They walked briskly down the streets of London, Porter keeping a short leash between himself and Sparrow. Gibbs was left in the hands of the English sailors, so there was one less person to go and look for should Sparrow try and make one of his famous escapes. They stopped finally at a pub, which didn't surprise Porter at all.

"I'll make this one fast," Jack said, making his way in.

"Don't be so quick about it, I'm coming in with you."

Jack shook his head. "A single soldier in uniform surrounded by dozens of armed and intoxicated pirates, probably had a close encounter with the East India Trading Company at least once? Not a smart move, mate."

Porter glared at him, expressing his rage in a manner words could not. "Fine," he muttered. "But make this quick."

Jack strode purposefully into the tavern, his dark eyes sweeping over the contains after adjusting to the dim environment. The man he was looking for was not often easily found, but was always there.

"Hello, Jack. You're looking for me, I figure." The husky voice of Captain Teague, Jack's very own father, came from behind him. The only person better at sneaking around behind a person besides Jack himself was Captain Teague.

"Yes," Jack replied swiftly, turning to face the aging pirate. His already lined face had grown more engraved since the last time they had met, and his eyes no longer held the spark of adventure they had once had. In his hand there was a bottle of alcohol, and his pistol was missing.

"Let's find a table." They set out to find a table, but they ended up with a barrel turned right up. Neither of them talked at first, Teague reading his son's face. "Yer confused, boy."

Jack cleared his throat. "You seem… different."

Teague laughed, surprising Jack. "Yeah, 'cause I am. I'm gettin' older boy, there's no use denying that. My swashbuckling days are long gone, and I'm tired. Bone tired. Tired o' wakin' up and still feeling a battle in yer muscles that you hadn't fought in twenty years. Tired o' wakin' up 'fraid that the navy'll finally catch up ter ya. Tired o' being hung over."

"If yer so tired, then why've you brought that?" Jack asked skeptically, gesturing to the bottle clutched in his father's hand.

"This? This poison's fer you. I don't drink no more. I'd like to live 's long as I can, an' this ain't doin' me no help." Jack grabbed the green bottle and began to chug whatever was in the bottle, groaning appreciatively. "What are you doin', strapped up in irons anyway?"

"Oh," Jack mumbled, his bad mood returning. "I had a bit of a run in with the illustrious Navy, as it were. I'm here to recruit."

Teague raised an eyebrow. "An' you thought I'd help ya? Smart boy." Swiftly, the older man stood up. "I'll be right back with a crew or two."

"Wait," Jack called, then swallowed. Teague turned, an amused look on his face. "What do you mean when you say yer tired o' everything?"

"I mean I'm dying."

"How did it go?" Porter asked, trying to leave the anxiety out of his voice, but failing. He'd been waiting so long he figured that Jack had made a run for it, and was about to go in and inquire about the pirate's whereabouts.

"I have two more boats waiting for us down by the port. If the price is right, they'll fight for Satan in all his glory. We should be able to convince 'em no problem."

"Good. Now we must get back as quickly as we can."

The walk back was as uneventful as the trip to the tavern, and when they reached their ship, two surly looking pirates were already waiting for them.

"Cap Salty, an' this here 's Cap Bo. Our ships're over there."

"What do you expect in return for this voyage, pirates?" Porter asked disdainfully, sizing up their ships with a critical eye. They smiled toothily at each other and Porter became impatient. "Well, whatever the figure, divide it by three and that's what your sum will be. Now, can we please hit the seas before I die of old age?"

"Now will you take off me handcuffs?" Jack asked.

Porter smiled as the two pirates were led up the boarding plank. "We will take them off once we are a suitable distance from land. Though I know you will try and escape, it will be more difficult to do so. Besides, we will have guards watching your every move."

"I can't have you do that, matey. I'd like some privacy when I'm doing my business," Jack winked at the Englishman, who rolled his eyes. "Besides, what might I be looking for?"

"Led them to my cabin," Porter instructed the officers that had a tight grip on the pirates. "I will explain everything there. Or, at least everything I feel you need to know."

Jack was too interested to bother with sarcasm or witty comebacks, so he just followed. Both pirates were led to the Captain's quarters, simply but lavishly decorated. Jack raised an eyebrow, wondering where he was going to be if he was the captain. Porter caught the change in his expression and laughed. "You, Captain Sparrow, will be sleeping and dining with the crew, where they all can keep an eye on you." He used his title to mock him, and gestured for the officers to sit them down at the mahogany table in the center of the room. It had a map on it, and Jack glanced at it for any indication as to what was going on.

"So, what do you already know, Sparrow?"

"I know that you allowed an eel to slither back on board, he double crossed you and made off with one of yer fancy schmancy treasures."

Porter chose to ignore the deliberate jab at his government. "Not just anything Sparrow, a map. Do you have any idea where this stolen map might lead us?" Jack shrugged, trying to be as inconspicuous as possible, but ending up just looking ridiculous. "We ourselves have only a vague idea, but we narrowed it down to it being the famous Helm of Darkness." He smiled at the lack of reaction at this piece of information. "It is the helmet that Greek heroes and gods often wore to escape capture or win a battle. It was the property of the god of the underworld, Hades. Or Pluto, as the Romans called him."

"Yer meaning to tell me that you believe all the ancient hocus pocus?" Jack smiled. "And what be makin' this helmet so… powerful?"

"It has the power to turn the wearer and the objects of his choosing surrounding him invisible, and thereby indestructible. Barbossa clearly wants the advantage of a sneak attack during his battles, and it is your job to track him down before he gets the chance."

Jack stroked his beard, narrowing his eyes. "Where might this do hickey be?"

"Sparrow, Hades was the god of the underworld. Use a bit of your miniscule brain, think for yourself where it might be!"

Suddenly a smile broke out on Gibbs face and he turned to Jack, who had the 'I've got a plan' look in his eye. "If it's the underworld yer after," he said finally. "I might be able to get you all there without a map, or even a compass."

Porter frowned, disbelieving. "Then how else are we supposed to find the entrance?"

"Just find me a good shipwreck. A small one will do, just make sure there are some dead and nearly dead. I've got meself a friend to catch up with."

The shipwreck was as good as any, the mast was completely broken in half, the sails were torn and there was an obvious gaping hole in the side. Porter looked disgusted by it, but Jack smiled.

"It's perfect, can't you see?" Jack spun the wheel closer to the ship, and when it was only a few meters away, he gestured wildly for Gibbs to come over. Gibbs was grinning at Porter's obvious obliviousness to the situation.

"What are you-?" Porter began to ask as Jack stood on top of the railing closest to the broken and nearly sunken ship. He then startled everyone but Gibbs when he turned around, grasping the loose rope nearby and swinging off of it onto the other ship. Porter and several other officials rushed over to the railing in shock. "What _are_ you doing, you fool?" Porter shouted incredulously.

Jack tapped his ears to say that he couldn't hear anything, then held up a finger. He seemed to be straining to listen, completely ignoring the feeble moans of the still living on board. After a few more long, awkward, moments of no action, the aggravated official rolled his eyes.

"Sparrow, get back on board! You're wasting our time!"

Jack merely made a frantic hand waving motion that Porter took to mean that he should be quiet. Upset that a pirate was leading him around on a leash, he opened his mouth to tell Sparrow off again, but paused when he saw a large ripple from across the sea.

"There we are!" Jack called loudly up to them, a pleased and self- satisfied grin on his face. "Knew he wouldn't miss a single boat, the good soul."

"What the bloody hell is he babbling on about, Gibbs?" he muttered to the pirate steering the ship, and Gibbs just smiled mysteriously.

The ripple got closer and closer until it completely came above the water, the wooden jaws popping out threateningly. The ship was entirely black, and the sails were worn. Though it looked slightly more taken care of since Jack's last encounter, no doubt due to the new Captain, it was still an intimidating sight to behold.

"Is that…?" Porter exclaimed in horror, his eyes widening.

Gibbs nodded. " _The Flying Dutchman._ " His grin widened when he finally caught sight of the youth at the wheel of the giant ship, his shoulder length hair blowing in the wind beneath the bandana tied around his head. The captain didn't seem aware of what was going on yet, but when Jack started waving around on the bow of the ship, a wave of recognition flashed across his face.

Swiftly, the boat pulled up on the other side of the sinking ship, and several of the crew leaped from _The Dutchman_ and began to round up the dead and dying, throwing the bodies over their shoulders or lending them a shoulder to lean on. The man at the wheel gave it to another, and after he had a word with his quick- working crew, he hopped into the boat himself and strode, almost angrily towards the bow, where Jack was waiting with open arms.

"What's going on?" The captain of the _Twilight Vengeance_ asked, pulling out his telescope.

"That be William Turner Jr, the new Captain of _The Flying Dutchman._ Aye, he and Jack go a long way back. Matter of fact Will and I go back a long ways too. What he does is bring the sailors at sea to the afterlife, so if it be the Underworld ye be wantin' to get to, Will's the one."

"Hmm." He twisted the telescope, trying desperately to figure out what was going on.

"William Senior Junior, it is so nice to see you," Jack smiled, giving Will an unreturned hug.

Will raised an eyebrow, and readjusted his own leather bracelet, feigning disinterest. Truth be told, he was actually very happy to see Jack, but he also knew his friend far too well. Jack wasn't likely to be here, with an English ship to boot, without wanting something, or in big trouble. Usually it was both. "What do you want, Jack?"

Jack frowned, for he'd forgotten how good Will was at reading him. "Nothing, ol' chap. What's wrong with buying a pal a drink? So why don't we go back on yer ship, find a nice and cozy pub, and pop open a pint, eh?"

"You don't buy other people drinks, Jack."

Jack brightened again. "That's right, I planned on you paying anywho."

Will sighed, wanting more than anything to take him up on his offer, but he had a job to do. Looking over to his father glancing quizzically at him from the side of the boat, he gave him an exasperated look. William Turner the First shrugged his shoulders and turned his head towards the steering wheel, indicating that he'd be able to take over until Will called for the ship.

"You know I can't go off on land."

Jack shrugged. "A minor setback, I'll get the drink for you. That means that I have to pay for it, then! Mr. English Knickers over there might have a complaint, but I'll turn him round."

"Yes, why are you with the English Navy?"

"All in due time. Now, kip on over to my little warship over there, and we'll have a nice little chat."

And so, a suspicious sea captain and a tipsy almost- captain went on board the English war vessel. Jack led him to his living quarters, introducing his companion to the sights and people. They stared at the ocean hardened youth, the moon shaped scar that showed where his own father had carved out his heart peeping out distractingly from the open halves of his now heavily stained white shirt. Will stared back, hardly blinking, at the soldiers.

Truth be told, he felt the echoes of his past come out to haunt him, and though he felt at home among the waves and ships, he felt as if another life was coming back to haunt him. Had he not gone after Elizabeth, met Jack, and started this whole crazy ordeal, he might have been one of them. He could have been respectable.

Will finally entered Jack's chamber feeling somewhat put out, and the feeling only worsened when Jack pulled out some high quality vineyard wine of some sort. Jack made a face, but then pulled out two crystal goblets.

"Strictly speaking, I'm not supposed to be dipping into the royal supply, but desperate times call for desperate measures, right?" He ripped the cork out with his teeth and poured a generous amount of wine in each. "I won't say no to some alcoholic comforts."

He walked the two drinks over to where Will had tentatively sat down and outright took a long, deep sip from his. "Ay, that hits the spot," Jack smiled appreciatively.

Will took the other goblet halfheartedly; knowing that if he didn't Jack would force the drink down his throat. He sipped, hardly tasting the rich wine that he rolled around in his mouth. These long years had been rough on him, and his senses seemed to have dulled. "How is she, Jack?"

Jack took a break from his chugging and fell silent. He rubbed a spot on his beard absentmindedly, picking at dirt and trying to figure out an answer. Finally, he turned toward his best friend, putting on his most serious face. "She's doin' fine, mate."

Will closed his eyes, the pain of their last meeting overwhelming him. He let out a long breath to try and calm himself down; he wasn't ready to talk about Elizabeth, and Jack knew that. Jack had met up briefly with the now Mrs. Turner on her second wedding anniversary and they'd talked about old times, and Jack planned to tell Will. Just not yet. They had more pressing matters to discuss first before walking down memory lane.

"You may be wondering why I'm on an English ship?" Jack prompted, attempting to steer away his friends' attention. Will nodded, his mind determinedly focusing on the new topic. "You heard about what happened at the Fountain of Youth, did you not?"

Will nodded. "Of course, who hasn't?"

Jack shrugged modestly. "Well, after Barbossa was made the new captain of the _Queen Anne's Revenge,_ he decided he had more business in England. After buddy-ing up to the navy again, he stole a map. This map leads to a very important artifact in the underworld and-"

"And you need me to help and get it for you, I presume?"

"Don't presume, it's a damned fact." Jack finished off the rest of his glass. "Are you going to finish that? Fine stuff, this is."

Will rolled his eyes, after all these years still astonished that Jack's attentions could be so easily diverted. "Go ahead." Jack took the still nearly full crystal goblet from Will's hand and began to drink from it. "I'm sorry Jack, but if it's the Helm of Darkness you're after, I can't help you."

Jack choked on the wine. "Well, why ever not?"

"Because, _Jack,_ I have a job now," Will explained as if speaking to a child and stood up, beginning to pace. "It's up to me to transfer souls to the underworld, and I can't back down from that duty. If I just stop doing it I'll- I'll end up like Davy Jones."

Jack didn't see the problem. "Yes, looking like Jonesy would put a bit of a damper on yer good looks mate, but I'm not be seeing the problem with escorting some old friends on yer way down, well, down _there."_

"You wouldn't," Will replied darkly. "I can travel faster with _The Flying Dutchman_ than I can with several ships in tow. It would take me a normal man's journey to travel, and I can't waste that time when there are still men dying at sea." Jack pursed his lips, digesting the information and finally understanding that Will really wasn't going to be helping him. "I'm so sorry Jack, I wish I could do more."

"I just thought- of all people…" Jack muttered, then slapped his thigh and stood up. "No matter, I'll figure out something." He grinned. "Always do."

Will paused for a moment, then nodded. "I'm sure you will." He then walked to the door and held it open for the pirate, who bowed mockingly before prancing through.

They walked through the ship again, the crew now more curious than ever, and Will hopped up on the railing, _The Flying Dutchman_ silhouetted in the background.

"Good luck, Jack." With a flash he was gone, the trick that Davy Jones had played on him more than once. In less than a second, Will was bounding up the steps of his own ship, reaching to take the wheel from his father.

"Don't be a stranger!" Jack shouted just as _The Flying Dutchman_ sunk into the waters and out of view.

"And _what_ was that about?" came a distasteful voice from behind Jack. "Did you accomplish anything, Sparrow?" Jack thought for a moment, then turned on his heels determinedly. "Wait, where are you going?"

" _We_ are making a visit to Spain."

Porter's mouth dropped in surprise. "Whatever for?"


	4. Chapter 4

Jack purposefully roamed the dirtied streets of the seaside city Barcelona, his brisk pace indicating to passersby that he was in a rush. That he was, but not to lose the English soldiers that were following several paces behind him, out of uniform but not unarmed. Spain was a dangerous place for the English, and it had taken a lot of persuasiveness on Jack's part to get Porter to even consider going near the coast of Barcelona, and Jack had been taken on land with a few armed guards with the naval ship far out of range.

Porter was no dummy, he knew that this would be a perfect escape for Jack, for he knew that coming close to land with an English warship to retrieve the pirate should he go back on his word was as close as declaring war. So, Gibbs was kept on board with the promise of death to the pirate should Jack fail to come through on his oath.

Now pirates are not generally associated with loyalty, and it would take only a sharp turn and a good hit or two to take out the four men following him all too obviously, but Gibbs had been Jack's loyal companion for a very long time and had grown on him, and Jack found it would be one of the hardest things he would ever have to do to let him go.

And so, he found himself strutting down the cobblestoned roads of Barcelona, Spain, without a single thought of escape. He did have a target in mind, and whether the mysterious person would be willing to cooperate or not depended on how he went about the negotiations.

Besides, if the price was right, he'd forgive his worst enemy, what would make this person any different from him? They were from the same soup, they were. Made from the same stuff, and those are the sorts of people you could never trust, because they were just like you. _Naw, you're much worse,_ Jack thought to himself briefly as he accidently kicked a scampering rat.

After a few more complicated turns down the dirty streets, he finally found what he was looking for. After a glance to make sure he was still being followed, for if he lost his trackers than Gibbs' life was at stake, Sparrow pushed open the wooden doors and swaggered in.

Men were hanging off the wooden beams, singing slurred whore songs in Spanish and fighting awkwardly in a small alcove between the large jugs of cheap beer. The one thing Jack loved most about taverns, no matter where he was, they always acted the same. The occupants were of the usual villainy and toe rags, but he kept an open eye out for a sign of lost respect, of worn sensuality, of hopes ruined by the very man searching.

"What'll it be?" the barman asked in Spanish, sending up an unthought-of warning sign. Jack had never been good with accents, and replying back to the man's question would give it away that he was an Englishman. Or, from England… originally.

So Jack swallowed and lent in close to the barman. "Not a drink, thank you." He leaned back and watched the barman's face change from bored to livid.

"Yer a-," the barman choked out through trembling lips, his egg shaped face the bright shade of a tomato. The light tuff of hair on his head didn't help the illusion, and it took all Jack's willpower to remain serious. The words came, seemingly unused before, from the man's mouth, and his Spanish accent swallowed them up until they were almost unrecognizable. Luckily, Jack could speak angry and understood the tone.

"I'm quite aware," Jack raised his hands before moving one finger to his lips, indicating for the man to shush up. "Now, I don't mean any trouble, so it would be a good idea to keep quiet." The barman looked like he wanted to argue, but saw the loaded pistol hanging in clear view from the pirate's pockets and decided to drop the issue. He growled at the lost opportunity to squash an Englishman, but decided it was well worth it to keep his head fastened on his head. While there were plenty of men in the bar more than willing to trample the arrogance from the pirate's eyes, the rent still needed to be paid.

"If you don't want a drink, then what do you want?" he asked grumpily, spitting into an already dirtied goblet, his words coming out slow and angry.

"Information. You wouldn't happen to have a girl wandering around here, now would you?" the pirate winked at the barman, and despite himself he found himself smirking back.

"Now yer talking! We've got all kinds' o girls, short ones, thin ones, ones that ain't English, but they can sure do a good impression o' one…"

Jack shook his head, trailing a finger through one of his dreadlocks and picking out a feather that had been there for God- knows how long. "Not interested in any o' yer slave company, I'm talking about a girl… a real woman. Real Spanish, if you know what I mean," he winked at the barman, feeling the sick feeling of disgust well up in his stomach when the man smiled knowingly back at him. _So, you got there first, but not last, eh Jacky?_

"Oh, her. She's in back, but unluckily for you, she's not accepting any… visitors."

"All gentlemen are the same, always thinkin' with their… hearts. Anyhow, she'll accept me, we're old friends," Jack picked at some dirt on his fingers and stared up at him.

The barman chuckled, his deep voice making several other, mostly hungover, men growl in agony and hold their throbbing heads in pain. "A lot of men have thought like you, and many of them haven't come out very satisfied."

"Don't worry about me, I'm easily satisfied. Now would you direct me to where this black widow lies in her web?"

The booming laugh of the man echoed through the bar again and several patrons looked up. He pointed a grimy finger at one of the doors near the back, not visible at first glance. "Good luck, friend. An' if she asks, wasn't me who sent ya." Jack winked at him and tossed him a coin he'd found on the street. It wasn't much, but it was much appreciated in this part of town.

The inside of the living quarters weren't anything special, at least that's what Jack assumed. After striding purposefully through the threshold, he was met by darkness. The only light in the room at the moment was directed towards him, and he knew it was so the woman could see him before he saw her.

"Miss me, lovely?"

"You shouldn't have come here, Jack. You know Spanish waters are dangerous for… your kind." The voice of the woman seemed loud in the seemingly empty room, the only noise coming from the honeyed sound that was her voice and the muffled scuffling of footsteps as she walked. Jack remained silent for a moment, deducing where she was in the room by the sounds, resting one hand on the doorknob just in case her mood was less than friendly.

"Shouldn't be anything harder than I've experienced before, and I've experienced some. You know that."

"Better than anyone. Have you come here alone, then?"

"No," he replied simply to the figure, knowing that the truth would get him farther than any well constructed lies. Not with this person, anyway. "No, I haven't."

"Is the place surrounded?"

He grinned, choosing now to bend the truth a little. "Every entrance and exit. Yes, including the one on the floor, I've had a tussle in this bar once or twice before."

"Unsurprising, you would have disappointed me otherwise." The voice betrayed no anxiety at being cornered. "Lucky for you, had you not been I might have killed you right where you stand now."

"I figured that, 's why I came prepared."

"You left me to die, Jack." Angelica, the attractive and obviously Spanish daughter of the famous, and now dead, pirate Blackbeard, accused heatedly. She came out of the shadows, her figure closer than Jack thought she sounded. She looked like the night, her wardrobe changing almost entirely to black. Strangely, and somewhat inappropriately, this reminded Jack of his corruption of this girl. Angelica was almost at the point of being a nun when he met her, and once they met, her acceptance into the holy ranks was forbidden and impossible. She'd held that against him, and he didn't blame her.

"I know, love."

Angelica's face, for a brief moment, portrayed the vulnerability she was feeling in some corner of her heart, but it was quickly tossed aside for the emotion that had clouded her thoughts for the majority of the past few long months; anger. "Why did you do it?"

Jack smiled, not really meaning it, his face softening. "Self- preservation, I sure as hell wasn't about to stick around while you stuck a bullet through me skull fer killin your dearly departed father, now was I? Anywho, I knew you would make it out spick and span."

"You couldn't possibly have known." Angelica's newfound attachment to her father had run deep, yet some of the joy of having discovered him leaked out when it became obvious that her attachment was far greater than that of her father's. Instead of choosing the paternal instinct to save a child, he chose to kill his daughter to save his own life, a plan which had failed due to some quick thinking by none other than Jack Sparrow. Yet another reason for Angelica to have Jack on her hit list, but the more she thought about it, the unhappier she was with the short time she had spent with her biological father.

"Oh, but I did." Jack took the opportunity to inch closer to Angelica, his dark eyes never leaving her own. Hypnotizing her, she looked back. "You see, we're the same, you and I. We always get what we want, and fer us, it's survival. I want to survive, you want to survive. That's how I knew you'd find a way out."

Angelica broke the spell by casting her eyes down to her feet. Taking a moment to breathe, she looked back up, the fire in her soul spitting ash and Jack could hardly breathe in the smoke. "You are nothing like me."

Knowing that flattery would get him nowhere, Jack squared his jaw and readied himself for a punch. "I need your help."

The sound of flesh swiping across flesh reverberated around the room, and Jack closed his eyes trying to shut out the pain. This wasn't the first time he'd been slapped by a woman scorned, but would try his best in the next few minutes to make damn sure it would be the last.

"What in hell could make you think…"

"Money," Jack answered shortly, resisting the urge to rub his throbbing cheek. "A ship full of it."

Angelica narrowed her eyes, the anger still coursing through her veins like an electrical wire. "And where, may I ask, is this money coming from? I will not have to kill anyone important for it, will I?"

Jack shook his head solemnly. "Important is a broad term, love. You may have to, shall we say, cut a few threads, but yer in a bit of a sorry state yerself. It's my personal opinion, and forgive me if I'm wrong, that yer in desperate need of gold. And I happen to have access to lots of it."

"You didn't answer my question. Where is this blood money coming from?"

"The pockets of hardworking Englishmen."

"I do _not_ accept English money!"

Jack frowned, not understanding. Money was money, no matter where it came from. Who did she think she was to refuse such an offer? "And pirate money is so much better."

Angelica arched an eyebrow. After a moment of mulling over her options she squared her shoulders and stared straight into the pirate captain's dark eyes. "What port?"

"Now we're talkin'!"

"This is the _Regal Stargazer._ "

Her ship was not as well kept as most, but it could move and it was this sturdiness that Jack was counting on. Angelica had managed to find a few sailors that owed her a debt or two, and after a matter of hours she had conjured up a fairly decent crew. Jack was impressed by the looks of them, but kept himself on edge from the moment he walked onto the ship. With his hesitant English bodyguards behind him at all times, he needed to only contain Angelica until they reached the _Vengeance_ and only then would Jack feel more comfortable being surrounded by nationalistic Spaniards. They argued in loud voices about the English, and while Jack had never been the patriotic sort, he still found it rather uncomfortable.

The _Vengeance_ was still a while out to sea, and after a while Jack began to get a bad feeling about the large man consistently following him about the poop deck. He could smell the stench of bad eggs and tobacco before a giant forearm cut off his air. Jack leapt into action, reaching for the knife he had taken to carrying around out of sight in case something like this should ever happen. Whipping it out, he only wished to stun the large man, not kill him, so he ran the blade lightly across the man's arm. Howling in pain, he released the pirate, who ran down the stairs.

"Angelica!" He shouted furiously. "Your crew is mutinying!"

"No," she answered calmly. "We're proving a point. The point is, we don't get our money at the end of whatever the hell we've signed up for, you're going to end up like your friend." She gestured to a corner of the ship where one of the English officers was lying, presumably dead, with the other two trying their hardest to revive him.

Jack's face hardened as he surveyed the scene, the large members of the crew surrounding him, flexing their muscles, waiting for Angelica to give the orders. He finally turned to look at her. "You've changed."

"Yes, thanks to you."

Jack couldn't disagree with her. He looked out to the sea, trying to ignore the moans of the men he was supposed to take care of behind him, and he saw a rippling in the waters below.

Suddenly, the bow of the _Flying Dutchmen_ burst out of the water before his very eyes. The waters parted and Angelica gasped next to him. "What's that?" she asked, before turning around to her crew. "Man your stations!"

"No, don't!" Jack called, waving his hand furiously at her. "They're friendlies."

The grinning figure of Will Turner looked at him from his spot, hanging on the ropes from one of the shrouds. "All right there, Sparrow?"

Jack smiled, and for a moment he was able to ignore the pang in his heart at the thought of Angelica's betrayal. "I am now!"


	5. Chapter 5

Somewhere far away from Jack Sparrow and Will Turner's joyful second reunion, the wind was rushing through the overgrown hair of another pirate. He had the very same goal, but far less honorable.

He stuck out his tongue, tasting the salty sea air and reveling in it, for there was once a time when he couldn't feel, couldn't taste. He took nothing for granted now. Sensing a change in the winds, he called down harshly to his crew of men and looked out to sea at his navy of boats flanking his own. You see, the pirate had traveled many lands for this grand of a crew.

The chocolate skinned men of the African countries could be seen manning their boats, in stark contrast to the ivory skin of the Russians, and the smooth caramel skin of the sailors of India.

Grinning, he lifted the chipped sword he had won fair and square in a fight to the death, lifted it high to the sky. The ropes quivered, and he pointed. Like magic, the ropes tightened and twisted, the ship changing direction without trouble.

The waves were rough and there was a storm coming.

But Barbossa didn't care.

"What changed yer mind?" Jack asked his friend over a glass of whiskey. They were nestled in some corner of the _Stargazer,_ talking over the past day and planning where they were to go from here. They had already met up with their English suppliers.

"I feel like I had some debt to repay," Will responded after a moment of thought.

Jack smiled and let it sink in. He swished the contents in his cup around before taking another sip. "When you say you "feel", is it really feelin'? I mean, you have no 'eart, mate."

"No, I haven't," Will agreed. His cup remained untouched on the table, already forming a ring on the light wood. "But I have a soul, and I know how I think. That was the hardest thing, I think, when I became captain of the _Dutchman,_ you know, trying to hold on to yourself and who you used to be. I know I'll never be the same until I get my heart back, but I spend weeks locked in my cabin thinking scenario over scenario and what Will Turner, not Captain Will Turner, would do. That's why I say I feel, because that's what Will would do. He would help. My soul reminds me that I'm still human, still living."

Jack thought about what Will said, a smirk slowly coming on to his face. "Yes, but yer a pirate captain now. You've got to start making decisions fer yer crew."

It was Will's turn to smile. "Yes, and end up like you? No thank you, I'm fine."

"Hey, what's so bad about me? I always think o' what's best fer at least one person."

Will snorted, finally picking up the glass and getting into the spirit of it all. "Yeah, you!"

Jack winked at his friend. "Now you get it! See, when you think o' yerself, there's tons o' people off yer mind! Easier to make decisions. Now when there's someone else, problems start 'appenin'. 'specially if that person's a woman. Might as well throw in the towel, you ought."

Will, who was just smiling, suddenly turned solemn as he remembered his beautiful wife, Elizabeth, back home. Their time together was so short, too short. Only one night together, not nearly enough to get to know a partner. He always figured he'd have the rest of his life to find out, but it seemed that fate had another idea in mind.

Now, Jack was intoxicated, but he was still rather sharp. He picked up in his friend's change in mood and quieted down as well. "You miss 'er?"

"Every day, my heart- well, I suppose my body, my brain, my soul, yearns for her. Whenever the memory of her touch comes up, I can almost feel my heart, feel the cold steel wrapped around it… Ten years is such a long time when you're in waiting."

Jack nodded, not understanding the depth of Will's emotion, but understanding that he was in pain. "Ten years is an awfully long time in general. But you know, when it all passes by, you'll wonder where it'd all gone, you'll see. When yer as old as I am, ten years, why, it's just a breath. Seems like yesterday I was as old as you."

Will cocked his head. "You don't look very old."

Jack smiled a little and looked out the porthole. "'s the eye makeup. Me pop's gettin' up there, might go any day now. Might ne'er see 'im again."

"Yes, you will," Will answered firmly. "You've been there, you know there's something after nothing. The real thing… it's nothing like Davy Jones' Locker. Nothing like it at all. Whenever I lead passed sailors to the other side, I have to resist the urge to stay. To forget. Except you never really forget. Not really. But your memories are slowed, like looking at life differently. Everything you've ever done is forgiven, everything bad, and everyone you've ever wronged forgives you. Just like that."

"Sounds too peaceful to me," Jack smiled wistfully.

Will shook his head. "No, Jack. I think, out of everyone I've ever met, you'd be the one who'd appreciate it the most."

"I'd like to visit sometime."

Will squared his jaw. "Not this adventure you won't. Nor the next one. And I'll make my damnest sure that you never have to go before your time. You, nor Elizabeth, nor… aw damn it!"

"What is it?"

Will shook his head. "I feel as if… I'm missing something. As if there's someone else I need to protect… need to cherish."

"That's 'cause there is, mate." Jack smiled and leaned across the table. "Our dear Lizzie gave birth to a baby boy round two years now. A strong, healthy baby. I never did see 'im meeself, but she told me he's got yer eyes."

Will sunk back in his seat, eyes closed and an expression something like rapture crossing his handsome face. He took a few deep breaths before a giant smile ran across his lips. "Did she say anything else about him?"

"He's named after you, o' course. Can snore like the devil. Screech like one too, or so I've heard."

Something sounding like a giggle came from Will's mouth and he downed it quickly with whiskey. "How does she look?"

"Perfect, mate. Same as always."

"She's beautiful, isn't she?" he asked to himself regretfully, then realized who he was talking to. "Don't you dare agree with me, Jack Sparrow!"

Jack raised his hands in surrender. "Ne'er even crossed me mind."

"Are you saying my wife is ugly?" Will Turner was in the mood to tease, and he was going to tease Jack. Taking another long sip of whiskey, he laughed at the playfulness of it all.

"Just can't win with you women, can I?"

Just as Will roared with laughter, Angelica came bursting in the room. Looking from Captain to Captain, her eyes finally rested on Will's. Will decided upon looking at her that she was a dangerous woman. Dangerous from a physical perspective, getting involved would probably kill you, but there was also something about her air that emitted danger. He suspected that Jack had made her this way, and he saw the history between them all in the way her eyes darted.

"Captains, there's a storm coming. It looks like a big one."

Will stood up, sensing the danger and crossing over to the small window on the side of the room. Glancing out of it, he saw the ship approaching a dark wall of clouds, the lighting coming down from them threateningly and the seas churning in front of them in a way that made even Will's stomach churn.

"That's because it is a big one," Will murmured in awe at the storm, and then turned around to face the other two. "We have no choice but to go through it."

"Go through it?" Angelica called incredulously. "That's easy for you to say, you can just take your ship down below the waters and steer clear of this place. We, the normal ones have to do-"

"It's not safe to even be under water at a time like this. My crew knows what to do. My skills would be better directed towards helping you all here. Jack, you better swing over to your ship so your escorts don't think you're ditching them. The last time I looked Porter looked as if he blew a few blood vessels." Jack tipped his hat and rushed to get on the English ship before they hit the eye of the storm. "Now, show me to the wheel, Angelica."

Her jaw tightened, but she nodded. Angelica led him to the wheel of the ship, which Will grasped tightly, nodding to his crew sailing alongside him. Will Turner Senior nodded back and steered away from Angelica's ship so as if anything should happen, it would not result in the destruction of the two ships.

Will jerked it desperately to the right. The waves banged against the side of the ship, leading it away, bringing it with the rhythm of the ocean. He wouldn't have it and twisting the wheel to and fro to keep it on course. Heading straight towards the eye of the storm, Will glared at the lighting flashing from the sky with confidence.

"I can do it!" Angelica screamed next to him, grasping a nearby railing with all her strength. "It's my ship, I got it!"

"No you don't! Now please be quiet, I'm trying to concentrate. And, by God, hold _on!_ " They hit another large wave and the whole ship tumbled. Men slipped and slid across the deck, cutting their hands while trying to hold on to something, anything, and some pulling ropes to the sails. Some tried to sneak below deck, but Angelica's first mate made sure that they wouldn't.

"If you don't let me down there, I'm a dead man!" One scared sailor called out.

"Yer dead if you do!" the first mate growled, pulling out his pistol. "You go down with the ship, same as us! Yer decision if you want to go overboard, under the deck, or with a bullet through your head!" The young sailor gulped, hurriedly saluted, and went to tug on a rope with his mate.

Meanwhile, Jack wasn't having much luck convincing Porter that he should be the one to steer them out of danger.

"Our men have been trained for situations like this!"

"Not saying they 'aven't, Cap't. Jus' wonderin' if I could jus' steer us out o' danger. Then you lot can hav' it right back, spick and span, eh?"

Porter smiled crudely and his eyes narrowed. "I won't have it go around that a pirate saved the British navy. I'd rather see the devil himself save us than even a vermin like you."

"Vermin I may be, but I've actually been in situations like this before! Please, let me help!"

"You may _help,_ Captain Sparrow, by staying out of the ruddy way!

Just then, a wave the size of the boat itself threw itself upon the ship, wiping supplies and sailors off with it. Seeing the effect of the storm on his men, and then glancing up to see a sailor struggling with the wheel, he finally turned to Sparrow.

"I will not have the name of the navy soiled by you. You may steer this ship, but only until the end of this Godforsaken storm. But if any more of my men die, your chance is up. Be mindful you're on a vessel with other people besides yourself."

Jack didn't see how it was possible to avoid every wave, but it was worth a shot. This was a storm only an experienced pirate with run ins with the supernatural could handle. With Will on his side, it was unlikely they wouldn't come out of it.

Without a word, Sparrow bounded up the steps and took control. The sea pelted against his face, but to him it felt like a caress. There wasn't a storm in the world Captain Jack Sparrow couldn't handle.

The men were scattered along the beach like a battlefield. While only a handful was strewn about, to the remainder of the men it seemed like hundreds. Because they could be next. It could be any one of them to be asked to sacrifice themselves.

Not to mention their Captain was furious beyond all belief. It wasn't the lives that bothered him, he'd killed so many indirectly already, but the time that was irritating him. If he didn't crack the code soon, _they'd_ catch up with him. He couldn't let that happen. He could taste the power in the air he breathed, the food he ate, and on the land he walked. Almost there.

A voice as old as time itself, as liquid as water but as solid as steel came out of the creature poised, ready to pounce, right in front of him. "Your numbers grow few. Captain, you are running out of options."

The Captain growled and turned to the remainders. Pointed a long, dirtied finger to one, he hissed. "Yer next, you scurvy dog!" The potbellied man trembled in his boots, gestured to himself in fear. "Yes you! Come on, we've not got all day."

Tears fell down the dirt encrusted cheeks steadily, knowing what fate awaited him. He was not clever, he was not smart. He was weak. When the creature asked The Question No One Else Could Hear, he thought for long moments, every other word a cry or shuddering gasp. Finally, he answered. The creature smiled a sad, yet hungry smile that ripped through the hearts of every man there. The man in the boots stopped crying, his pleas of mercy stopped, and he became part of that, now ever growing, handful of bodies.

"Move aside, dogs! I'll do it myself!" That was the last straw for the Captain, and he crossed the line of rocks and approached the creature.

She blinked and cocked her head, her yellow and orange eyes boring into his own weathered ones. The movement of her head caused a few golden hairs of her mane fall into her face, only adding to the mystery. "What is it you seek?"

"The land of the dead. The land of… The Helm." The Captain spoke clearly and without fear.

"Curious… many once sought the land of the Helm. Now it has become a thing of the past, a thing of History. You do not fear death."

"I was death," the Captain snarled. "Fer years, and even after. I was death."

A feral grin stretched across her white fangs. "Yes, you are one of the few who has Escaped. Now you never want it to end. Careful with your desires, for they become weakness, which are exploited by even the most unlikely. Do you wish to Continue On?"

"Yes."

"You must answer my Question. It is not easy, but it is not hard. It merely is. No one has answered this Question. What makes you think you are special enough to be the one out of all your crew to be the One to Continue?"

"They are bound to this Earth by their dreams, by their promises. I don't have dreams any more, and have nothing to lose."

"Oh, but you have everything to lose."


	6. Chapter 6

A few weeks of sailing had past, and the storm was now long gone. All three ships had survived the dastardly weather, but there was still a long journey to go. Jack was getting impatient, and the longer he traveled from his precious _Pearl,_ the more he fretted. Jack had never been much of a worrier, but with his baby held captive, like a prisoner of war, he paced about the ship like a prisoner with a death sentence.

It happened one day when Jack woke up, as usual, with the cuffs on his wrist, chained to the headboard during the night. Except it was still night, and there would be no one to let him out should he call for the keys. So he sat there, his legs itching to pace, until he heard a rap on the small window to the side of his cabin. He sat up abruptly, and tugged on the headboard, but it didn't move.

The insistent knocking returned, and it started to give Jack a headache.

"Ah can't move, love, I'm chained t'the wall!" he groaned out. What was on the other side must have heard him, because the knocking stopped. "Thank you…" he began but it turned into a scream when the window suddenly broke and shards of glass fell on the wooden floor. The dark head of Angelica appeared through the window and she slipped through without cutting herself on the sides.

"Hello, Jack," she crooned, slinking closer to him like a black cat in the night, only her eyes flashing.

Jack swallowed as he took her in, struggling a bit against his bonds while trying to ignore the accelerated patter of his heart. "Funny how most o' our encounters start with hello, an' end with a gun pointed at me head?"

"Now, now, Jack. It isn't my fault you can't behave yourself. You can hardly blame me for being frustrated sometimes."

She was playing with him, mesmerizing the tied up Captain with every swish of her _damned_ Spanish hips, her _cursed_ Spanish voice that flowed like honey through his system. Funny thing about that honey was that it could change to venom before he could even blink. And that was just what he did, and after a few blinks and shake of his head, he frowned. "What're you doin' here, Angelica?"

He couldn't see her face in the shadows, but he could just feel her frown as he forfeited from their game. "I want to know what's in it for me. I'm not a simpleton; I know what the stakes are. I do not want to show my hand and lose this time, not again. The less blood that's shed, the better."

"Ah've told you before, love, they're English."

She didn't say a thing at first, and before he knew it, he could feel the imprints of her nails on his chest, the silkiness of her hair tickling his throat. "You've said that. I guess what I'm asking is _how much._ "

She smelled of lilacs, somehow after being surrounded by stinky men and dusty cabins for so long, and Spanish spices, and it was intoxicating Jack. He'd never had much restraint before, but the power it took not to take her into his arms, ignoring the fact that he was chained up, was overwhelming. Knowing Angelica, she'd just as soon kill him as she would kiss him, but he'd always been one for danger.

"I don't make promises I can't keep, love."

"Yes you do," she breathed out and he chuckled.

"I can't do much, but I can promise you and your sorry crew that I will milk the English peoples as much as I can." She made an approving noise, mewing against his ear, and he turned his head towards her face. "Now, don't break me heart an' tell me th' only reason you've gone and visited me is just ta ask me 'bout some reward?"

She laughed almost darkly, pushing off his chest and finally stepped into the beam of moonlight flowing freely into the room from the broken window. There, standing so intimidating above him, he realized he finally met his match. She was the person that could ruin him. She was the one that could finally take the fight out of Captain Jack Sparrow.

"You know me, Jack, always after a reward."

He shook his head at the irony of the situation. When she left, he closed his eyes and felt the ocean's winds blow through his hair. "An' you say we ain't the same."

"What's that out there, Porter?"

"Captain Porter," he snapped in reply to the pirate's question. He'd been having a bad day already, for they had already run out of his favorite year of red wine. And it had crossed his mind more than once that Jack Sparrow was one of the reasons for the early shortage. Judging by his charts, they should be pretty close, closer than the open seas were implying. Still, this was only the first half of the journey, and there would surely not be enough alcohol for the rest of the crew on the way back. He'd never been much of an alcoholic before, but Jack Sparrow always brought out the best in people. "What's it to you what's out there? When we get to land you'll just be in irons the entire time."

"We'll see about that, mate," Jack warned. He wasn't in the mood for Porter, and he sensed something in the air.

The _Flying Dutchman_ came closer to them, Turner leaning over the side railing. "Porter! Sparrow!" he called, worried. "We're coming up on something, something unreal. I should've warned you sooner, but I thought it was a myth."

"There's nothing out there, Turner!" Porter screamed, his hat falling askew. Done with pirates, he stormed from the deck and to his cabin, where he pulled out a map and willed them to be there already.

"Jack, there are monsters out there! They're calling out to us. We have to ready the crew!"

"Tell Angelica!" Jack called back, running over to the bow of the ship, looking out on the horizon and seeing two specks that got steadily larger as they approached. His eyes widening, he ran over to a particularly large looking sailor. "Let me out of these!"

"You'll just go off and leave!" The sailor shook his head, but looking hesitant as he noticed the specks too.

"Where've I to go?" he growled, getting frustrated with the impudence of the navy. "I have experience, if you don't let me go, I won't be any help t'you." The man gulped, his eyes darting between the still unknown creatures and the Captain's cabin. "Do you have a family?" Jack asked desperately, his own eyes fixated upon the black spots. The man nodded. "How d'you think they'd feel if ya'didn't come home only 'cause you refused ta release a pirate? I ain't gonna try anything funny." Without another moment's hesitation, the man pried the cuffs off Jack and he got to work.

"Pull the sail's in, the wind's changing and whatever's out there, we need to reach them with some speed on our backs!" They got to work, the crew pulling on ropes and climbing ladders to make sure the sails didn't luff. He looked down at his compass, which, instead of pointing at England, at the moment it was pointing directly between the two dots, which at this point were now blotches. One was smaller than the other, but seemed to have tentacles or some other extra limbs that were flailing. The other one was bigger, and also wider, and the wind and the water seemed to abruptly turn in that general direction.

"Steer clear of the big one!"

"Sir, we'd be going against the wind!"

'Sure, call me sir when I'm saving yer lives!' Jack thought venomously to himself. "We have no choice! Stay away from the big one!"

"Jack, I know what those are!" Will called as his ship turned up next to his own. The _Flying Dutchman,_ while almost as fast as the _Black Pearl,_ it was much faster than the English ship. Will zoomed around him to the point of annoyance for Jack, but he put his jealousy aside. "They're from Greek Mythology, both sisters. Scylla, the smaller one, has over a million heads and eats sailors from where they stand. Then she destroys the ship. The bigger one, Charybdis, uses her mouth to suck in surrounding ships!"

"Well, that is a dilemma, now, isn't it?" Jack called, his brow furrowing. "Is Angelica sticking close to us?"

"She said she would, but she didn't look all that happy about it. I wouldn't put it past her to try something of her own if we can't think of something."

"Is there anything we can do to kill the beasties?"

"Not that I know of, I wouldn't try it. I think the only way back is through them as well, maybe we can try something when her back is turned. Unique as my powers are, can't do much."

"Well, what _can_ you do?"

Will hesitated, thinking it over. "Not much, but I am able to raise sailors that were never transferred to the next world from their graves, there must be a lot of them around here. That's with the promise that I will move them into the next world after their debts are paid."

"That could be helpful!" Jack cried incredulously, surprised at Will's impunity.

Will shook his head. They were quickly running out of time, and the outlines of the monsters could be seen more clearly. The green teeth of Charybdis were sharp and there were many rows. The sister, Scylla, had heads that vaguely resembled an Angler Fish that were attached to long purple necks close to fifty meters long. Still too far to notice the detail on the heads, but that was swiftly about to change. They were getting closer and closer and the Captains began to panic.

"Swords and muskets at the ready!" Jack yelled to the crew, who scrambled to comply. They were going to lose a lot of men, he knew, but there was no other way. Hopefully on the way back they would be avenged. Turning to Will, he looked more serious than Will had ever seen him before. Probably because he was somber. "We're goin' t'a aim fer the middle o' them two, but lean more towards th' spindly heads one. At least there we won't all die in one go."

Will nodded soberly, but then turned to his crew and repeated Jack's instructions. Sparrow watched as Will's ship pulled ahead of his own in an act of martyrdom. "Follow that ship, lads! What ev'r you chose ta do, don't go near that sucky one!"

The hearts nearly beat out of the men's chests, but Jack remained somewhat calm as they approached. The sea turned almost sickly green in warning of some sort, and the wind picked up. Clouds rolled in, but even they seemed to be abnormally close to the Earth, getting sucked into Charybdis along with everything else. Sparing a glance at the giant head, Jack shuddered.

He'd seen some pretty ugly things in his life, the ugliest being the inside of the Kraken's mouth, lined with sharp teeth and fluids. That was nothing in comparison to this creature. She, if that was even right, reminded him of a giant slug, her entirely green eyes placed on the very top of her head popped out, and the purple pupil swirled all around, and at one time even twirled to the back of her, what Jack could only assume, skull. While the mouth never moved, Jack now knew that this sister could see behind her back. There was a small mop of hair, but it was bright red and clashed terribly with her yellowish green papery skin. There was a lot of skin, not only covering the giant face but also hanging in extra flaps. It was utterly disgusting.

The English Navy, to their credit, showed their worth that day and Jack found himself praising them for their usefulness. They followed every instruction and kept the same course Will had created, aiming to curve between the two. Jack knew it was risky for three ships to get through, and his heart couldn't help aching for Angelica, wanting more than anything for her to make it through this alright. He could only hope that she got the message and planned on following it.

Will's ship was attacked by the heads first, and Jack got a glimpse of the purple head. The eyes were clear and seemed to have no pupils. The mouth took up most of the face though, and Jack thought sarcastically that big mouths and sharp teeth must run in the family.

The shots rang out loud and didn't stop, the first few necks that attacked the crew came up without heads or swinging off a little flap of neck, but then one didn't. The first man that died was dragged up from the ship with the giant mouth wrapped around his midriff. The man was then flipped and about a hundred of the uncountable heads caught it and began to rip it apart. Just as Jack saw this, it was their turn to be attacked. The soldiers were fast and they were accurate, for once, but their heavy uniforms definitely slowed them down. Some were smart enough to drop their heavy coats and hats before the battle began, but judging by the glares they received, Jack guessed that it was against protocol.

Yet, it was these men that got the most kills, survived the longest. Not long after the heads began to bang against the deck Porter came out from his hideaway, his eyes widening at the sight. He managed to duck a few heads and watched with horror as a man, right in front of his eyes, was snagged at the neck and tossed in the air. "Sparrow, I am in charge! How _dare_ you!" He screamed as he reached the pirate, who was among the men, slashing and hacking.

"Sir, I believe you've gone and lost the respect o' yer men. You weren't there, an' I was, an' I bet they won't respond t'ya. If I were you, I'd get active instead of sulkin' around. That's what gets ya killed, it does."

"Oh does it now? Well-" he began but out of the corner of his eye he saw another man get snatched. Gulping, he drew his sword and began to get to work. "We'll talk about this later!" he threatened, then ran across the deck.

Jack was aware of a lot of things while fighting, and he noticed that Will had already began to turn to make it through the safe alcove right through the middle. The man at the wheel was trembling as the rough seas rocked the boat and as his companions were taken right before his eyes.

"Follow Turner!" he screamed towards the frightened man, who jumped and threw the wheel in the right direction.

Soon, but not soon enough, the heads became less and less until they were safe. Only then did Jack dare to look behind him at Angelica's ship.

There were horribly deep holes in the sides, but luckily they weren't anywhere immediate, and while they were still fighting, he could see Angelica's feminine form, dirtied but alive, and a rush of relief came over him. Turning back to his own ship, he surveyed the damage. Whatever was left of his crew were complaining in fear, their eyes skirting from one broken plank of wood to another, unprofessionally misjudging the extent of the damage.

Luckily, Jack was able to milk the most out of any ship even with a hole dead through it, and knew that these injuries, while extensive, wouldn't condemn them.

The crew looked rather like freed rats, scurrying around and trying to avoid any grotesque reminders of what they just went through, as there were a lot of souvenirs. Pools of crimson and a few monster heads were scattered about, and some of them were just starting to notice that a few of their own were missing.

They were about twenty five down, and while not an exceeding amount for this ship in particular, it was still too much life wasted. Jack calmly stood in front of them all, looking every last one of them in the eye. Seemingly without a thought, they straightened, strength flowing through them.

"Now, I'm gonna tell you what we're gonna do," Jack began, his voice quiet but strong, and he heard the last of the screams die down from the boat behind him, knowing at last that Angelica was out of danger. "We are-"

"And just _what_ do you think you're going on about? If you think-" Porter began, a blood drop slowly climbing down his face, the cut on his cheek reopened.

"We listen to the pirate now, sir," a shy looking lad spoke up quietly. "Without him we woulda died."

"How dare you defy your commander in chief? I could kill you for that!" Porter was so angry that he began to spit. Unconsciously, the group around him was tightening their ranks, closing in on the furious Englishman.

"You won't, because then you'll have to kill all of us," another officer commented, his previously scared face replaced with a defiant one. "You left us."

"This… is… mutiny!" Porter hissed, his wig going a bit askew.

Jack during this entire episode was merely standing in the center, watching a ring form around him and Porter, knowing that this would be a showdown. The normally talkative pirate stood silently, watching the upperclassman crumble in front of his eyes.

"You did this to me!" Porter screamed, turning towards Jack, his eyes wild and finger pointing. "You tricked me! I'll be killed for this when we return! And so will you! I'll make sure you never get you're ship back you-"

"That's enough, mate," Jack said, his voice cutting through the Captain's words. "You'll remain the Captain of this vessel, and these men'll still take orders from you. But I won't, I want that understood, eh? An' if we find ourselves in another supernatural problem, well, I'll be the one ta go to now, righ'?"

Porter's lips were clenched so tight they turned white. His face was turning a sickly purple and the vein in his head was throbbing, contrasting greatly with his white wig. "You dare-"

"Yes, I do. An' you better accept it, 'cause we still need ta get th' ship back into sailing condition 'fore we start up again. Quickly. Now, get to it you lot!"

Swiftly, with this command, the crew got to work. The bravest of the men took care of the heads scattered across the deck and mopped up the crimson stains. The men with the weaker stomachs worked on bandaging the injured and fixing the damages to the ship. In the meantime, Porter had stormed up to Jack and stuck his face so close to Jacks that Jack breathed in the same air the Captain did.

"I will ruin you," Porter whispered madly, his eyes wide and sweat pouring down his cheeks, stinging his cut.

Suddenly Jack broke out in a grin, gold teeth glistening in the sunlight, as the sky had cleared up not too long ago. "I know."

"We're approaching some giant rocks, sir!" a young attendant in charge of mopping came up to Jack and told him.

Jack bounded up the stairs in his usual fashion, elbows bent a hundred and eight degrees upward, and looked out at the sea. And so they were. The rocks were as tall as the ship itself, and goodness knows how wide. Jack's ship had long come before Will's ship and they would now be first in the navigation.

"Prepare yerselves fer a lot o' fast maneuvering!" he told the attendant. He took out his compass for the thousandth time in the past few days, and saw that it was pointing directly towards the thick of the rocks, dead ahead. There was no room for error, and Jack knew that even should their aim be perfect, there was no guarantee that the entrance to the underworld wouldn't have some sort of protective measures.

"Left!" he screeched as the first large rock came into view. The large birds circling around them weren't helping very much either, and they didn't look like anything Jack had ever seen before. He wouldn't put it past the makers of this Godforsaken place to put a bunch of monsters here that weren't of this Earth.

"That's mighty bad luck," Gibbs commented in Jack's ear. He'd noticed the birds too, and his deep rooted superstitions came back full circle.

"Oi, where've you been!" Jack exclaimed, briefly diverting his attention before swinging back into motion. "Right!" he shouted.

"I've been around, Cap, guess you 'aven't noticed what with all the chaos goin' about. Yeah, I'm still alive."

"That's mighty good of you, keep it up." Jack hardly looked at his friend, but up at the sky, which seemed to be darkening with more and more of… whatever they were. "Sharp left, then right, then a second right, then another two lefts!" He screeched.

Suddenly, an arrow buried itself in the mast directly next to his head. Quickly taking it off, he ran his fingers about the stalk blindly, still staring out at sea. When his fingers brushed against something rough near the arrow head, Jack handed it to Gibbs. "Pull it off and read it to me." Jack quickly addressed Gibbs, but then shouted again. "Starboard!"

Gibbs unraveled the paper and unfurled it to read the slanted and educated handwriting of William Turner. "Confound it all, it's too fancy!" he cussed as he squinted to try and separate the loops from one another in his mind.

"Do the best you can! PORT YOU DOGS! FASTER!"

"Er, Jack, them… crunchers? No, those creatures! Them up above, they be… sorry, they are! They are Symphalian birds, agents of war. They are man-eating creatures with bronze beaks that attack without abandon. We must be careful, with weapons at the ready."

Jack sneered at the birds above, slightly excited at the challenge. However, it was a challenge that seemed one sided, for the birds weren't moving, only circling about overhead. As the ship rocked among the sharp formations, Jack analyzed how the birds were circling.

"They're not in any attack form, they're the assurance."

"The assurance for what, Cap't?" Gibbs sped up to follow Jack as he tore himself away from the sky and swaggered down the stairs to help the crew maneuver.

"They're the leaving committee, to make sure we don't leave with what we've come for."

Gibbs pursed his lips, only slightly understanding. All he knew was that the bronze beaks were getting him nervous, the light reflecting off them somehow making them all the more terrifying and threatening. "Should we do something about 'em now, so they don't get a chance to er… say goodbye later?"

Jack stopped and Gibbs bumped into his back. "Eh, worry about it later then, shall we?"

Soon enough there was something new to worry about, the giant gaping hole in front of them in between two close mountains. Stalactites hung from the top of it, and it seemed to be breathing.

"Light the lanterns!" Jack shouted. "And hold on to your corsets. It's going to be a bumpy ride."


	7. Chapter 7

Barbossa was on his way, he'd gotten past the creature, and after he'd answered the riddle correctly, he had slain her. Better let the secret die with him, he figured. Her howls were louder than any death cry, and the bite she'd given him only proceeded to egg him on. As her blood stained hands and gotten under his fingernails, he could feel the Helm's power run through his veins, his pulse roaring in his ears.

Standing over the beast and turning back to his crew, he spoke loudly and harshly, the anticipation of the Helm's power making him impatient.

"We step from this place new men! And as new men, we ride to rule the world! Now, let us get back to th'ship an' meet up wit' whatever band our _King_ has cooked up fer us, eh?"

The elements had not been kind to the crew, not to mention the captain, so it was a less than excited cheer yet the manly call for blood rang through the empty space.

And yet, the creature lying, broken and violated, seemed to be smiling.

At first the stalactites were quite menacing, but soon they were so into the cave even with lanterns it was still darker than the night. Jack wasn't as nervous as he was before he met up with the two sisters, but the thought that he would have to face an enemy in the sheer darkness was beginning to catch up with him. It's one thing to know what you're fighting, it's another altogether to die against a practically invisible foe. Especially waving your sword about like an idiot, trying to find something that can't be found. He'd had this problem before, believe it or not, and since then dark places had always managed to get him on the edge. So, just to be sure, he fingered the hilt of the sword strapped to his side. Using a pistol in the dark would only manage to kill unnecessarily, even Jack knew that.

Jack kept whatever senses he had left on high alert, but it was hard with so many men around him, breathing and scuffling and making noise. He understood, they needed to make noise to ensure themselves that they were still alive, that something didn't already come and the blackness wasn't actually hell. It was only beginning to dawn on Jack himself that he himself would actually be in hell soon enough, and he was sure that he wasn't the only one disturbed at the prospect.

He wondered what would happen if they were caught by the devil himself, would his torment be like Davy Jones' locker, a never ending beach with no water in sight, slowly going mad under the blazing sun? Or would it be like Angelica herself, taunting, teasing, always an inch away when he'd taken one step forward? Would the exit always be one adventure away, his brand of heroics slowly expiring as the exertion it took to escape wore him down? 'That would be hell,' Jack thought to himself, his eyes narrowing, scanning what he knew to be the walls of the cave, even though he couldn't see them.

"Jack!" Will called from the ship behind, his perpetually young voice ringing and echoing, so even when Jack heard it, it continued to call him.

"Eh?" he grunted, attempting to make as little noise as possible. The less creatures that knew he was there, the better.

"Sensing land soon!" Will shouted, knowing that he too should be quick and quiet.

Jack paled, knowing that Will could not help him if the Helm was on land. His help had considerably lessened, and now he was allied with only Angelica. He was smart enough to know not to ever turn his back on her, because she was likely to stab it. Judging by the way he'd treated her in the past, he didn't blame her a bit. Still didn't prevent him from being wary around the Spanish beauty, and a dark cave gave her a perfect opportunity to come through with some creative form of revenge.

"Another boat's here! Can feel it!" Will called out again, his voice strained, his unnerving words reverberating.

"Barbossa," Jack muttered to himself. It was only a matter of time before the pirate caught up with them, but he'd relied on his good ol' pirate luck to get him out of an early confrontation. Unfortunately it was not to be.

"Sir, what's that glow? It's not comin' from up 'head, it's comin' from the… water," Gibbs stuttered nervously from somewhere off to Jack's right. The superstitious pirate was probably in a frenzy, going over in his head all of the bad luck they had brought on board.

He hadn't noticed it before, but there was definitely a soft glow coming from below. Jack had been so preoccupied with thoughts of Barbossa that he hadn't noticed the change, but without hesitation he slowly slid his way over to the edge of the ship.

Leaning his upper body over the rail, he peered down at the water, and a jolt ran through him when he saw that there seemed to be peaceful bodies floating both on top of the water and underneath. They were not solid, they were not liquid, they were not gas. They were of a new stage of matter, something that Jack had never seen before, yet they were obviously human. Or were.

"Are they the dead, Cap't?" Gibbs asked him tentatively, peering over the edge too. The underside of his face was glowing from the bodies, but it was not enough light to show them where they needed to go.

Jack arched an eyebrow. "Can't see what ever else they might be. But hey, we'll never know till we're dead then, eh?"

"Let's make sure that day is not today." Gibbs shuddered as he stared at the lids of the dead, their pupils moving about rapidly as if they were in a dream, yet the rest of their bodies remained stationary. They merely floated along, seemingly without purpose or desire.

"They're harmless," Jack concluded, straightening and feeling his way along the side of the ship to the front, where he peered to try and see ahead. Looking over the side of the boat again, he saw that the people were being pushed faster. He gasped as he looked up and saw the curve of the ceiling drooping down, "Everybody hold on to something!" he screamed out, just before the front of the boat tipped down the hill.

Jack felt his entire body lurch forward, and he held onto the side as if it were the last glass of rum he'd ever drink. He cries of the other men were scarcely heard over the sound of the rushing water, and as they glowing bodies fell, they seemed to be screaming too. The waterfall made the world around them somehow absurdly brighter, and Jack whipped his head around to see a man fly off the portside of the ship and into the glowing water. The moment he touched it, his skin glowed and he dissolved into the river, becoming one of the floating bodies.

"Don't touch the water," Jack choked out, the wind rushing against his face so bad that his eyes began to tear up. It was a long fall, with no end in sight. The glowing people of the dead were flying above him, next to him, below him, their eyes still closed and their expressions without torment. Suddenly, silver threads were flying towards them, raveling themselves around each other and creating something that looked rather like a web. The closer the threads wound, the more Jack found his feet coming closer to the deck. Soon enough, there was a completely silver bubble around them, and a strange gravity jolted them back to normal. The glowing bodies that were trapped in the net fell as well, and the soldiers cried out in horror as they fell towards them.

They looked like ghosts falling towards Earth, but the moment they touched the deck, they became completely solidified. Standing up abruptly like they had just been shaken out of bed by the devil himself, they stared around them as if seeing for the first time. Some wore the clothes of the Romans and Greeks, while others' seemed more modern. Whichever, they were clearly human again. Jack didn't have the time to figure them out, and as they rushed for a hold, the ship completely rotated until horizontal again, stationary in mid air.

Some of the crew had the courage to let go of whatever they were grasping, while others got sick overboard, but Jack merely let go of his beam and peered over the edge of the ship. The depths below were black, and up above he saw the belly of Angelica's boat being given the same treatment. What happened to Will's ship, he didn't know, but he suspected that he'd managed to use whatever powers he gained to turn themselves around and stop Barbossa.

"Jack!" He heard a voice from above, and seeing as it was somewhat feminine he supposed it was Angelica. She sounded as if she were speaking through a pillow, and while faint, this proved that the threads had made them a covering.

"'m here, love!" he shouted back.

Turning around, he saw that the blue silver waterfall was getting farther and farther away, though the whole while it didn't feel like they were moving.

"It looks like someone wants to keep us alive, cap't?" Gibbs figured, rubbing at a sideburn.

"Yes Mr. Gibbs, it does."

Very soon, the waterfall entirely disappeared and their bubble floated along, the darkness nearly overwhelming after such a long time. There had been nervous chatter at first, but eventually even the whispers died as the cave took on a morose feel.

"It feels like death, cap't," Gibbs breathed from the very same spot he'd been, his eyes darting amongst the darkness.

Jack did not answer, but in reply lifted a hand to his temple and rubbed it. This was the very same feeling in Davy Jones' locker, how darkness compressed inside his mind for endless minutes until he felt as if he would go insane. He felt his eyes cross and the lightheadedness that he had often felt while in the midst of one of his fanatical insanities.

Soon after, he breathed out a small sigh of relief as a green light showed in the distance. The bubble floated to this light slowly, temptingly, and all they could do is wait. Jack looked up when the light got closer and saw that the stalactites were larger than ever, and if the bubble was only a few inches higher than they would have tumbled to an unfortunate death. The least of their problems, Jack decided to move back up so he could be in a prime position for action should any future event call for it.

The cave was shaped as if it were a mouth, curved perfectly at the bottom and curving into a point at the top. There were stalactites and stalagmites in this green cave as well, looking ominously like teeth. The bubble fit perfectly through the opening, and slid slowly in.

Jack found it somewhat of a surprise that they hadn't managed to come face-to face with some demon by now, much less the Devil himself, or at least some sharp rock punctured their bubble.

Just as soon as the thought skimmed across his mind, a terrible voice ripped through the cave, and they were so far in at this point that even after it had finished, the sentence would reverberate several more times. The voice seemed to be coming from within their heads, but it couldn't because of the echo. It was unlike anything Jack had ever experienced before and wished it would end. Just as that thought passed through his mind, the wailing stopped. The soft light from the glimmering ghost bodies was growing softer, their numbers decreasing, and the cave grew darker once more. Their bubble slid on, their only companion being Angelica's ship, also incased.

"Where'd you think Will's gone to, Cap't?"

Suddenly, the sound of cannon fire could be heard in the distance. Screams of war rang through, and Jack smiled.

"I think Hector may have run into our dear William. We may be having less competition after all."

"I don't think we're that lucky, Cap't."

"I think we are," Jack thought to himself, as the bodies disappeared entirely. The bottom of the boat scraped along the bottom of whatever was beneath them. "Land!" he shouted.

The boat, with much difficulty, slid onto a sort of island. Angelica's boat slipped in next to his, and both their bubbles popped, absorbing into the ground.

"Find some torches," Captain Porter commanded to his crew. They fumbled about in the dark, but soon the crew was able to congregate on land with their new light sources. There was wind inside the cave, coming from the direction Jack guessed they needed to go.

Soft moans disturbingly interrupted the otherwise dead quiet, and the ground was not made of sand, but of volcanic rock. It was smooth and slippery, but glinted in the firelight. Jack pocketed a stone. It wasn't often you took a trip to the Underworld, after all. Jack wondered how Will was getting on with Hector, and whether or not they would be interrupted soon.

"What do you propose, pirate?" Porter asked quietly to Jack. Porter looked frightened, the dried crimson blood on his face making him even more pale.

"Follow the wind, I say. There's got to be a place it's coming from."

"He is right," Angelica supplied, climbing down from her own ship, torch in hand.

Porter, not having a better suggestion, merely began walking towards the wind, which seemed to be coming from a large cavern up ahead.

"Isn't there a dog of the dead?" Gibbs asked Jack quietly.

Jack thought for a moment, adjusting his torch. "I ain't one for children's stories, Gibbs, but I do recall young Turner mentioning something. He done told me he never has to travel past them beautiful sea twins, that there's a soul port of sorts. The God of the Underworld has some workers, I should think."

"Barbossa must've gone a different way, mustn't he, Cap't? We've not seen him til' this point. Matter of fact, still ain't seen him."

"The world's a big place. Must be many different, er, death ports, as it were. Strictly speaking, Will Turner himself might not know all them yet, he is new at the job yet."

The large cavern soon opened up to an even larger cavern, and Jack wondered what sort of undersea mountain they were under, and how deep they were. Even better, how they would get back. "I'll never touch a drop of rum again if I get out of this mess," Jack thought to himself.

"That is a very difficult promise for you to make, Mr. Sparrow." A silky voice rang through the cavern, not speaking loudly, but nevertheless demanding attention.

"Who's there?" Porter asked, shaking.

Soft glowing blue lights erupted all along the cavern. Jack noticed that it was blue and purple fire. The fire illuminated a throne, made from the same volcanic substance as the beach. It did not seem comfortable, but then; neither did the rest of the island. The throne was ten feet high, made for a much larger humanoid.

"It's always the same with you landfolk. Who else would live in the Underworld?" Behind the throne, Hades himself appeared, taking off a helmet from his head as he did.


	8. Chapter 8

Hades was clad in a stiff robe, not unlike a toga, but made of more solid fabric and structured closer to the body. He was an intimidating figure, twice the size of an average man, and built solidly. The firelight was able to illuminate a part of his sad, pale, sullen face, but he also had a natural glow. The helmet clutched in his thin hands was undoubtedly the Helm of Darkness, and suddenly Jack knew that he was the source of the tortured scream they heard when first entering the Underworld.

"You should not have come," he stated, plainly and sadly. "I cannot let you have what you want."

"I am Captain Porter of the English Navy and we have come-" Captain Porter stepped up, his sickly looking face darting up and down the god.

"I know why you have come. I know who you are. And I know that your mission will fail." He spoke unassumingly, not threateningly, not menacingly, just stating what he knew. "Porter, you are a weak man. You do not fear death, you fear life. Let me speak to Jack Sparrow."

Porter stepped back, abashed at being insulted in front of his crew. Jack, who had uncharacteristically remained silent throughout the conversation, cleared his through.

"Aye, your… Godliness." He grimaced, certain that he was about to be imploded.

A ghost of a smile appeared on Hades' face. "You've amused me for years, Sparrow. I've heard the tales of the men you've sent here, and the men that sent you to Davy Jones Locker. I can assure you, my home is a much better place."

"Yessir, I'm not one for the upholstery but I'm sure, when the time comes I will manage."

"You are bold, Sparrow, but foolish. You do not want the Helm, do you? This is not what you seek." He indicated to his helmet, which Porter was eyeing greedily.

"No, sir."

Hades' lips tightened. "But you have stolen from me already, pirate?"

Jack cleared his throat. "I haven't the foggiest, sir."

"Your pocket…" Hades' voice was in Jack's head, reminding him of the volcanic stone he picked off the beach. "… keep it, Sparrow. But let that be the only thing you steal from me tonight." He spoke the last part aloud, and the crew sent him questioning stares.

"Thank you, sir." Jack nodded.

"Angelica…" Hades began, and he went through the entire crew. Listing for everyone to hear, their dreams, their flaws, their futures, should they choose to abandon their insane mission. All the while, Porter inched closer and closer to the God, his eyes hungry for the Helm.

When Porter got a breath away from the God, in one swift movement, Hades grasped his wrist and turned him around. Breathing down his neck, Hades' good humor was gone. "You still wish to steal my Helm from me, after what I told you? You will not lay your hands on my possessions!" He threw the Captain away from him, banging on the rock wall nearly twenty feet away. He stirred at the bottom of the wall.

"However, I will let one of you have it. Sparrow, step forth." Jack, who had never respected anyone so much, stumbled forward to receive the gift. "Sparrow, I have chosen you to carry my gift. Let it be known, however, whomever else besides this man places his hands on my gift, will suffer more wrath than I have just bestowed on Captain Porter, and far much less mercy. You have been warned."

With that, he placed his helmet into Jack's hands and disappeared. Jack clutched the bulky metal to his chest, not entirely sure what he was going to do with this supernatural present.

"Excellent, ye've got it." The burly voice of Captain Barbossa echoed in the chamber merely a second after the god disappeared. "Now, I don't be wanting ter touch it, but that don't mean I can't make yeh follow me ter yer boat." He raised his sword threateningly, stepping into the firelight.

"Where's the rest of yer crew?" Gibbs asked.

Barbossa scowled. "Our own Will Turner took care of them, I just escaped in a dingy. Which will be why I shall in fact be taking possession of the illustrious English Navy's boat parked right outside this here cave."

"I'm not surprised you didn't go down with your ship, you bastard!" Angelica growled, her own sword drawn.

"Sparrow will be accompanying me back to my ship," Porter said, firmly, though still winded from his fall. His pistol and his sword was out, ready to make a stand. "And you will be left in the Underworld, you traitorous dog."

"I'm not the only one who bails out when I need to," Barbossa snarled quietly and Porter got paler. "That's right, your little side supplier… one of me oldest friends. Sent me on me way in case you got confused again where yer loyalties lie. You see, the King's crew, this man is no man of the crown. He's just as double crossing as the pirates he slaughters. Why don't you tell yer crew where you'd been plannin' on dumping the Helm once you got yer grubby hands on it?" Porter remained resolute, his face full of hatred for this man. "No? Fine, I will. I'm not one for working for the man either, mind you, but this one man, this one pirate has a price ain't no one can match. He has many names, but I like to call 'im Eduard the Maimer. He's gotta bit of a signature move, don't he, Porter? That scar on yer face you got from 'im, dinja?"

"That is none of your business, pirate," Porter snarled, raising his sword higher. "Come crew, it's one man versus the King's fleet!"

"No sir," the same timid solider who had told him off before stepped forward. "It seems like this fight will be one on one. What this pirate says, speaks true, sir. You're no Captain of ours." The rest of the fleet nodded their agreement.

"So you all feel this way, then? Consider yourselves dishonorably discharged, to be hung when we make port! You are the most disloyal crew I have ever had to deal with. You should be ashamed to be Englishmen!"

"And you sir, you should be ashamed to be a deserter." And with that, the crew made a ring around the two Captains, their swords out, no escape allowed for either of them.

"Really," said Jack, forgotten near the throne, still clutching the Helm. "There's no need to fight over me."

Barbossa rolled his eyes and struck. Soon it became clear that Barbossa was the more skilled fighter, on the offense rather than defense, of which Porter was having some difficulty. He was more injured by the godly throw than he originally let on, and though talented with a blade, he was slow on the uptake. They did not have much room to fight, as the ring of swords was slowly closing in.

"Should we help?" Angelica asked Jack as he stood there, just as he was, watching on.

"This isn't our fight, love."

This Jack Sparrow was a different one, although he was protecting his hide by refusing to fight, he was touched by the God's trust in him. Angelica looked on him, impressed.

Gibb's gasp ruined the moment, however, and Jack focused back on the match to discover Porter, sprawled on the ground, Barbossa's sword inches from his throat.

"Do it," he snarled. "Do it, pirate, the Maimer is going to kill me anyway."

Barbossa smiled his gnarled smile. "Which is why I'm not going to be killin you just yet." He straightened, his blade still poised near the fallen Captain's body. "It seems yer crew isn't loyal to you no more, escort the dear captain back to his ship. You know what ta do."

Two men grasped the Captain by the arms and pulled him up. Snarling and spitting, they escorted him out of the cavern, flanked by two others armed with torches.

"Now, Sparrow, if you'll be followin' me…" Barbossa reached out to Jack, smiling sadistically.

"Wait just a moment, dear Captain, with Porter out of commission the crew refers to me as their Captain, thereby disrupting your apparent claim to the ship. It seems that the next person you'll be needing to fight is me." He held up the Helm. "And I've got this thingy, if that helps."

Barbossa bowed. "Indeed you do… Captain. But I urge you to think of yer options. Hades said you can't give it to no one, that no one can take it from you. So, you are now the undeniable ruler of the seas. Congratulations. Now, Jack, what if you accepted bribery? You could win the war of whoever paid you most. You and I… kings of the sea."

"Why would I be needing you, yer royalness by association?"

Barbossa's smile grew. "Because I've got the connections. I know where the money'd be comin' from."

Jack considered this. "Well, it seems that the English Navy's got a right hard on for it, so they'd give a pretty penny. Maybe I want to go honest."

Barbossa rolled his eyes. "Perhaps you'd be needin' some more, persuasion?" He raised his sword pointedly. As he did, the remaining crew raised theirs a little higher, against him. "Hmm, finally picked yerself up a loyal bunch, eh? Fine."

"I think it's time we went back to them boats, whatdda you think?" The sailors took the hint and overpowered Barbossa, leading him away in a similar manner as Porter. Angelica turned to Jack.

"What are you going to do, Jack?"

"I'm going to try to bring it back to the Big Man. I don't want this no more."

Angelica laughed a little. "But with this, Jack, you could rule the seas."

Jack looked down at her, suddenly feeling more sober than he'd ever been before. "Nah. All I want is me Pearl and… well, I won't say no to immortality neither. And…" he paused, a tad intoxicated by her proximity. "Well. Let's just say I'm no good at leading much of anyone besides meself."

Angelica nodded. "That is true. But I am sure, if you wanted to try to let someone else in, they would let you. Assuming you did not double cross them again." They smiled at each other. Angelica had put the ball in his court, and Jack knew what she wanted. It was up to him, now, if he wanted to try and settle down. For now, he settled with nodding.

"Well," Angelica sighed. "I will meet you by the ships. I will speak with Gibbs and try to find a way out of this hell." She began to walk away, but hesitated. "You are making the right decision, Jack."

With that, she walked away, her Spanish hips swaggering away from him. God, Jack wondered if he would ever tire of that view. Once her torch disappeared, he was alone in the dark cavern.

"Er, your Godliness?" Jack called out to the empty cavern. "Master Hades, sir? Lord of the Underworld?"

"What is it, Sparrow?"

The tired voice of the God of the Underworld appeared behind Jack, and he spun around comically. He stood there, tall form glowing, rubbing his temples.

"I wanted to give you this back." He held out the Helm, which Hades took.

"To be honest, I expected to be getting this back pried from the hands of a dead general at sea. Not willingly given back by the same pirate I gave it to mere moments ago. I was also expecting more numbers added to my kingdom tonight."

"Why did you give it to me?"

Hades shrugged. "Partly because I enjoy testing the brink of humanity. Those who live in my kingdom are so dull sometimes. Partly because I knew the mercenary in you wanted something else, something greater. Partly, because you are the worst pirate I have ever heard of."

"Yes, but you have heard of me." Jack saluted Hades, who gave another tiny smile. He pulled two flasks from his coat, clear liquid shining in them. "What…?"

"Immortality," Hades whispered. "Your greatest wish."

"Yessir, but… the Fountain of Youth was destroyed." Jack felt foolish reminding a God of life on the earth, but this water was of no use to him.

"Everything dead comes here, to the Underworld. I have quite the museum, perhaps when it is your turn you can visit it. Although, if you do decide to use this water on yourself, it could be a long time yet before that happens."

Jack swallowed. "Who else would I use it on?"

"Can you think of no one?" Hades whispered, voice soft but strong.

A face floated before his consciousness, which he quickly suppressed. "But for the Fountain to work, doesn't one take life away?"

Hades gave Jack a flask and opened the other, taking a large swig. He shuddered. "The God of the Dead cannot die."

Jack pocketed the flask of good water in his pants, patting it. Hades turned to disappear, but Jack coughed. "Sir, just a few quick questions before we… depart. Er, how do we depart?"

"Do not worry about that, I have dealt with that for you, because of your unselfish actions today. You are learning, Sparrow. The birds will not attack, and neither will Cerberus."

"Cerberus?"

Hades smiled a real smile now. "Don't you do your research before invading someone's home? Cerberus is my dog. He is trained to attack my enemies, I held him off when you arrived, and I will do the same now that you leave."

"Ah, yes, the three headed beastie." Jack looked down. "And the _Pearl_?"

Suddenly his pant leg became significantly heavier. He pulled out the ship in the bottle of _The Black Pearl. "_ Thank you! But, eh, how am I supposed to be getting it out?"

"When you pass the twins, toss it into the water and my brother Poseidon, God of Water, will do the rest. It is ancient magic, but magic of the sea nonetheless."

Captain Jack, newly appointed owner of _The Black Pearl_ , scowled. "You mean we still have to go past those harlots?"

"I cannot do everything for you, Sparrow! As for the last thing you desire, she is yours if you are willing to take the next step. But if you are not, be sure to communicate that to her." Hades rolled his eyes. "I cannot believe I am playing the middle man."

"Thank you, your holiness. I will be seeing you again, eventually, eh?"

Hades smirked. "As long as you don't end up in the other place."

"Good Lord, how many afterlifes are there?"

Hades smiled mysteriously and disappeared, leaving a trail of blue and purple fire down the cavern to the ships.

"Jack!" Angelica called as she saw him emerge out of the cave, running to him. "We can not figure out a way out, we have tried…"

She trailed off, because as Jack walked in the cavern, the firelight expanded all over the island and the cave, lighting a way out of the cave. The waterfall in the distance parted, and on the other side the wide berth of _The Flying Dutchman_ was seen in the distance.

"I guess Hector's ship is at the bottom of the waterfall by now, along with his crew," Jack though to himself as he walked over to Angelica and Gibbs. "You'll never guess what happened, the Lord of the Dead and ol' Jack are now the best of friends."

"Who'd a thought, eh, Cap't?" Gibbs smiled proudly, thumping Jack on the back, but quickly stopping at Jack's glare.

Even though Hades said he couldn't do much about the monster twins, the way back through them was infinitely easier, and the heads that would eat the sailors seemed to just be toying with them as they bobbed over the boats, their seaweed hair tickling sailor's necks without really biting. And the other sister's usually massive suck was a halfhearted pull every so often, just to keep them guessing.

The Englishmen would be returning to their country on their boat, an alibi for the disappearance of the skillful pirate rehearsed throughout the sailors. They still had their Captain prisoner in the hold, preparing to hand him over to his employer, and his death, when they reached land. The timid sailor had replaced Porter, shouting commands from the helm like a seasoned Captain.

As for Barbossa, they kept him in the hold of Angelica's ship. This boat had undeniably turned into the pirate boat, for Angelica, Jack, and Gibbs had moved of their own free will over to her vessel. Jack told his two companions of the _Pearl_ and Hades' promise. They agreed that he should resurrect his ship once the English left their company, and that Jack should be the one to keep Barbossa. They informed Will, who had indeed overtaken Barbossa's mutinied crew, who was very happy to see them. He gave his love to Elizabeth through Jack, who promised to relay the message when he had the chance next. Since he had been away from his duties for so long, Will Turner and his undead crew left them soon after their easy encounter with the twins.

Soon, the English had gone their separate ways, Angelica and Jack set up a meeting at a familiar, illusive port, and promised to talk guidelines of their renewed acquaintance. There had been no goodbye kiss, but Jack was okay with that for now. He supposed it was the holy encounter with the God of the Dead, but he also figured he just might be getting too damn old to be running around.

And with that, _The Black Pearl_ sailed again.

Captain Teague no longer wished to live in this world. His beard and hair was falling off his face in clumps, he awoke every morning stiff and hurting, and he had no friends to turn to. He simply wanted the pain to go away.

One day, a few weeks after he saw his son in the bar, he opened his front door to let the cat out, and saw a flask placed neatly on his doormat. Picking it up, the wrapping around the flask had nothing but the imprint of a sparrow on the crinkled parchment.

He heard the clinking of glasses in his apartment behind him, and he reminded himself to once again tell his son to sneak through the front door, not the side window.

But now, without even knowing it, Captain Teague would have many more years to tell his son every little thing he should and should not be doing. Because mysteriously, after sharing the strange liquid in the flask with his son that day, he would wake up and face the day with no pain.

THE END.


End file.
